─── ･ ｡♡ ･
❛ 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃.
I don't even think that you care like I do.
I should stop-Heaven knows I've tried .❜
A half-god-would-be-god falls in love with a mortal.
It could...
𝙗𝙮𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙖𝙘𝙩, 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚. SECTION TWO: THE MIST—0003.
Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
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PERCY AND WILMARIE LEARNED TO WALK BY HOLDING EACH OTHER'S HANDS FOR SUPPORT. It was as if one day they just chose to get up from the ground together and never look back—they ran through life hand in hand, as fast as they could, unwilling to let go even if one of them faltered or stumbled. As their mothers loved to say, they never quite let go, even as they grew older.
She had known the instant she took off in a sprint that Percy would catch up immediately. And he did; in the midst of New York's morning rush, he pursued her, weaving through people without a care, shouting after her.
Wilmarie had hoped it was an illusion, like those people who claimed to have seen silhouettes of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe appearing before an accident or the face of a loved one consoling them as they suffered from immense pain at a hospital. But when she tumbled over the uneven pavement, the skin on her palms and knees torn violently, ripping blood and tears that dripped down her face like shards of cracked glass, it was truly Percy who fell to the ground beside her in his desperate rush to check on her, cruelly gripping her shoulders tenderly and whispering words of comfort as if they were still children.
"Are you okay?" He asked her frantically. "Wils, are you okay?"
No, no. She isn't. No, she is not okay.
"You're dead," Wilmarie gasped, vehemently denying it. Trembling, she struggled to catch her breath; it felt trapped within her throat, choking her, refusing her the ability to breathe, to speak; to even think at all when Percy's frightened gaze met hers. The pain in her body was unsettling, frightening, and overwhelming. "You... You stole your stepdad's car!" She accused, horror evident in her voice as she desperately tried to move away from the ghost. "And Gabe lost his shit, and—and he killed you and Sally!"
Percy shook his head in disbelief. "No—Gods, no, Wils, that's not what happened."
"It is!" she exclaimed, furiously wiping away tears. "It was in the news last year! Everyone said you kidnapped Sally, and did all of this crazy shit, but my mom and I knew it couldn't be true. We tried to tell the police, but they didn't believe us—then—then Gabe went on stupid ABC World News Tonight with stupid Barbara Walters, and everyone started calling you a terrorist!" Her breath continued to hitch, and her voice cracked with emotion. "I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe that they were saying those horrible things about you. I knew you would never do something like that—but nobody believed me, and—and then there was a shooting in California, and the police said you were in a gang, or something—"
